


Will you be mine tonight?

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [60]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff, F/M, Feels, Fluff and pining, Hopeful Ending, Post Dragonpit, Sequel to Maybe one day I'll be yours, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 05:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Begins after the Dragonpit meeting. Brienne is miffed that despite having confessed his love for her and his promise to meet her again, Jaime has been cold with her. However, she is totally unprepared for what is to follow after that fateful meeting.Sequel to Maybe one day I'll be yours - https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294299





	Will you be mine tonight?

_ Tell her what? _

His parting words kept ringing in her ears all day, stinging her until it hurt, his refusal to show no more than ordinary acquaintance when he’d met her, and reluctance to converse with her leaving her stunned and smarting. Where was the love he’d pledged to her that day? What happened to the promises he’d made at Riverrun? 

_ I’ll be yours one day, _ he had proclaimed to her on that beautiful afternoon in the Riverlands, the longing and affection in his eyes leaving her floating in the clouds for days to follow. _ I’ll come for you, _he had vowed to her, and she’d believed him, for his word was something she’d valued more than anything else. More than her life.

She’d been waiting for him, but he never came. She looked forward to a word from him, but he never wrote. His lack of communication had left her secretly pining, hoping he’d show some sign that he knew her, but months had passed with no news of him. Until Sansa had mentioned him before her journey south. Her heart aflutter in anticipation of seeing him again, all she had the privilege of, was a covert glance or two. _ What the hell are you doing here, _his eyes seemed to question her, welcoming her with an accusatory glance instead of the affection she yearned for.

On repeated thoughts, on continuously revisiting the same scene in her head, she had come to believe that he was, perhaps, bound by chains she couldn’t see. Restraints of familial loyalty which, for some reason, he’d been unable to break so far. Cuffs that still tied him to his sister, ties which, for his own good reasons, he’d been unable to let go of.

Love, she knew, he couldn’t express in the presence of the company they were surrounded by, and loyalty, he may not have been able to swear to her, for she was still his enemy and his sister, his queen and his family. He could do nought else but revert to his terse and sarcastic self because he knew that was the only tactic that would work; he was well aware that he had to keep her at bay, but no matter how hard she tried to justify his actions, his words stabbed her more than any battle wound she’d borne. 

His eyes, however, had spoken a different language.

Love, she could perceive traces of, in them, but more than that was helplessness, a silent signal to her that he could oblige her no more. Not again, after what he’d done for her at the Riverrun siege. All this, however, she could only surmise, for she could never know for sure what lay in the deepest corners of his mind, not unless he chose to open it for her.

Her morale at its lowest with the way the meeting had turned out, and her mind clogged with various possibilities of what his mind concealed, she trudged along the winding pathway, the narrow street now deserted and dark.

“It had better be important, Pod,” she warned the boy, hoping their little stroll through the labyrinths of the city would lead to a fruitful outcome. _ Someone of significance wishes to meet with you, _ her squire had informed her, _ and he wishes to negotiate a matter of utmost consequence with you. _She’d objected, tried to put him off, but the young man wouldn’t take no for a reply, coaxing her, pleading with her, convincing her to embark on this strange midnight journey to an unknown destination with him. Pod was among the only two men she trusted, and it was her undying faith in him that led her to follow him. Questions she'd interrogated him with, but the answers the lad wasn’t willing to give her, requesting her to bear some patience until they’d made it to wherever they were going.

“There he is!” Podrick exclaimed in excitement, pointing out to a tall cloaked and hooded stranger lurking in the corner, dressed from head to toe in black.

The figure appeared painfully familiar, at least his structure and stature, and her heart jumped up a notch, coming to rest at her throat. _ Could it be-- _

Her doubts were put to rest when the man spoke, her feet numb and her palms wet and clammy the moment she heard his voice. “Lady Brienne,” came his gentle address, the sweetness in his tone as honeyed as it had been when he’d bid her goodbye at Riverrun. When he lowered his hood, an involuntary sigh escaped her, a hopeless and helpless reaction upon catching sight of the green eyes that shone with the comforting sign of acknowledgement of their past, something she’d craved all day to see in them.

She dared not approach him, for she knew not if he was real, or merely a figment of her romantic imagination, but stared blankly, waiting for him to prove he wasn’t an apparition.

And that’s what he did.

Approaching her with one tentative step at a time, he reached for her hand when he was close enough. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, my lady,” he said in hushed tones, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “How have you been?”

“Quite good, Ser Jaime,” she managed a response, his lips leaving her weak in the knees. “How about you?”

“I’ve missed you.” A whisper it was, his voice barely audible, but the emotions in them were naked and unmasked, a sign that there still was something alive within him for her; a flame that was, though flickering violently in the storm that was his sister, still burning somewhere inside him.

Before she could reply, Podrick cleared his throat. “I’ll meet you there in a while,” he told Jaime, and the two men exchanged a knowing glance, the annoying secrecy of their hidden intentions leaving Brienne wondering what she’d ventured into. A short bow to both of them, followed by a nod of acknowledgement from the knight later, the lad backed away, slinking into the darkness until he could be seen no more.

She stood there unmoved, questions crowding her mind, the mystery of this cryptic exchange filling her with an unexpected surge of restlessness. “Meet you where--”

His hand sliding along hers, he took her arm. “Will you walk with me?”

“At this hour?” she wondered, worried that he might be out of his mind.

“You’re leaving by dawn,” he noted, a faint hint of complaint in his voice, “or so I’ve been told. That leaves us with just this one night--”

“For what?” she hurriedly interrupted, the suddenness of the progression of events heightening the rapidly rising wave of anxiety in her.

“All your questions will soon be answered, wench,” he promised. “So come along.”

_ Wench. _ She smiled to herself as she matched step with him when he took off, remembering how badly she’d missed the word. _ Not the word, _ she quickly corrected herself, _ I’ve missed the way he used to say it. I’ve missed him. Terribly. _

He broke into a playful smile when he caught her lost in her musings. “Your smile tells me that you aren’t as angry with me as I feared you might be. That makes my job a lot easier.”

Offended by how lightly he'd taken her feelings, she halted at once, his tendency to jest inappropriately, upsetting her this time. “Ser Jaime, this is no time for a joke, nor is it--”

The smile faded off his face, his expression once again serious and sincere. “I have no strength nor inclination left for jokes, my lady, and neither do I have the heart for it,” he told her, “not this time. Not to you, of all the people.”

She examined his face, studying him carefully. “Why are we here?” she asked, unwilling to be kept away from any more secrets. “What do you and Podrick know that I don’t? What--”

Some silence and a heavy sigh later, he spoke again. “There’s a reason I’ve been loyal to Cersei. It was inevitable, something I couldn't avoid--”

The way he began his justification led her to jump to the worst conclusions her mind could conjure. Perhaps she’d been horribly mistaken that he still loved her. He had come here to explain himself, to tell her that he could never abandon his sister, to ask her to forget him once and for all and be on her way. “I understand,” she cut in, her voice breaking when she pictured this heartbreaking eventuality, “your loyalty to the queen, your sister. Nothing can outdo that, not even me or my love for you--” she stopped and hid her face from him, masking the sob she couldn’t control to an awkward cough, the mention of Cersei too much for her to bear.

“Brienne, look at me.” he implored, his voice so soft that it almost drove her to stand there and listen. But her emotions winning over her willpower to control them, she turned away, hiding the tears that slowly began to fill her eyes. Glad, in a way, that she would soon be gone, into the darkness and out of his reach, never to see him henceforth and never to get her heart broken again, she tried to slip away, but he touched her arm gently, the tenderness in his fingers cajoling her to stay back, begging her to lend him an ear. “_ Please, _” he added.

Reluctantly, she turned on her heel, forcing herself to face those compelling eyes. “Do you want to know why I came here tonight, Brienne?”

“Why?” she demanded, more harshly than she’d intended to whilst blinking back the tears she hoped, he couldn’t see. “You already bid me goodbye this morning, with not a sign, nor an acknowledgement that we’ve shared more than a polite conversation. Why did you summon me here? Why get to me through Podrick--”

The words that were to come after this were left behind in her mind, for he proceeded to stop the flurry of her outburst in a way she could never have imagined. Her lips were sealed with his, her brain corrupted into a state of uselessness, while her heart was reduced to a poor sorry part of her that was bent upon beating itself out of its cage. His kiss, this time, not unlike the first they’d shared, put an end to every question in her mind, every doubt that had been nagging her all along. All her frustration, her heartbreak, the confusion that had plagued her for months, the painful possibility of him falling out of love for her - all her cares and concerns simply evaporated off her mind like water from the surface of an ocean. He had said nought so far, but his lips did the talking, and what an efficient job they made of it! Hunger, she could sense in him, when he continued to devour her, and she let him go on, to take the liberty to plunder her, giving him everything she could. He smelled of leather and dust and man, her senses and sanity thrown off-guard when he slowly, but surely, began to make himself at home in every nerve she possessed, every part of her brain perceiving him, and only him. When he thrust his tongue far within her mouth, exploring the depths no other man had ventured into, she shut her eyes in surrender, melting under him like a candle kissed by a flame. Her arms went around his neck, her fingertips kissing the nape of his neck, and not to be outdone, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, his mouth continuing to show her what it felt like to be a woman, whilst his fingers set out on a quest to explore her back. “_ Gods! _” she softly moaned, trying to say more than that, but he shut her up again, intensifying the kiss, allowing her no chance to speak, nor her mouth an opportunity to do anything else but entertain his lips.

“Does this answer your question, wench?” he inquired, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm when he, at last, decided to show mercy and release her. “Does this tell you what lies in my heart? What I truly feel about you?”

Mollified by his _ explanation, _though she was, she still sought some answers. “It’s been months since we last met, so why--”

“--didn’t I try to establish contact?” he asked, reading her mind. “When Tommen died, Cersei was left all alone,” he began to explain, sadness shadowing his eyes at the mention of his son. “There had to be someone to prevent her from driving herself to insanity, to tell her right from wrong, to stop her from inflicting her decisions upon her people, and that’s why I haven’t been able to let go of my position here yet.” Regret clouding his handsome features, he continued with his woeful tale, “Sadly, I’ve failed in what I set out to achieve with my sister, and in the process, I’ve wronged you as well.”

“I thought--”

“--that I didn’t love you anymore? That I would forget my promises to you the moment I saw my sister again?” Once again, his prediction of her thoughts was accurate. “Believe me when I say this, Brienne,” he tried to convince her with utmost sincerity, “it’s you, and none but you. I meant every word of what I said at Riverrun.”

Her heart leaped up in delight, but she still had a hundred questions, a hundred obstacles that stood between them, strong deterrents to their potential union. What would happen now? Where would they go from here? Would they continue being enemies forever?

“Forgive me, my lady, for my terse behaviour this morning, for that was the only thing I could do to keep you out of the reach of my sister,” he confided, revealing the true intent behind his brusqueness. “She does strongly suspect that I love you--”

“--which was why you had to push me away,” she concluded, realization dawning upon her. “Come with me,” she urged, urgency gripping her as she grasped his hand in desperation, the thought of letting him out of her sight again more than her capacity to bear, “come and join us, come, fight for the living. Stay with me,” she added, pleading, “stay. Please.”

“I will,” he softly assured her, threading his fingers in hers. “Tyrion has managed to convince my sister to cooperate, and I’m going to lead the army to Winterfell soon. I’ll be with you there, Brienne.” He smiled, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes adding to his godly beauty. “Didn’t I tell you, wench? We’d one day fight together,” he reminded her, “and that day is soon to dawn.”

Her heart heavy that she would see no more of him for the time being, she was still content with his word that she would soon be reunited with him. With that reassuring thought in mind, she released his hand, ready to take leave of him yet again. “Goodbye, Ser Jaime,” she said, smiling for the first time since that morning, “I’ll see you soon.” 

She turned away, but was restrained by a tug on her arm. “Not so soon,” he said, pulling her back. “It’s not goodbye, not this time.”

Perplexed, she decided to seek an explanation. “What do you mean?”

“Marry me,” he implored, losing himself in her eyes. “Leave me with something to look forward to, Brienne.”

Elated, though she was, she couldn’t believe her ears, and had to resort to a moment’s silence for his words to sink in. “All in good time,” she said, when she was convinced that this was real, hoping for the day she’d meet him in the North, their union culminating in a wedding, perhaps, as per Northern tradition at the Godswood in Winterfell.

“_ Now _ is a good time, wench,” he insisted, his hold on her tightening as he refused to let go of her.

She stared at him. “You’re out of your mind!”

“I probably am,” he agreed with a shrug, drawing closer to her as he spoke, “but tonight’s the night I’m marrying you,” he declared, brushing his lips against hers, “if you’ll have me.”

Disbelief giving way to a comforting warmth inside her, her chest swelled with happiness she’d never felt before as she kissed him this time. “I will, Ser Jaime,” she accepted his proposal. “I’ve dreamed of this for years. Of _ you _,” she shyly admitted, recalling the numerous sleepless nights she’d spent, driving away dreams where Renly’s cloak had magically morphed into one in Lannister red.

“Let’s waste no more time then,” he said, leading her along a side-street, “because Podrick must’ve been waiting for quite a while.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have in mind two parts after this - one which will continue right after this - the marriage and the night to follow, and another for their meeting at Winterfell. Still contemplating whether to write them or not.  
In the meantime, thanks for reading this, and do let me know if you liked it.


End file.
